


Vignettes (Kinktober 2020)

by MistoffLikeKristoff



Category: Cats (1998), Cats (2019), Cats - Andrew Lloyd Webber, Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats - T. S. Eliot
Genre: Aftercare, Alley Sex, Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, Aphrodisiacs, BDSM, Begging, Biting, Bodyswap, Bondage, Catboys & Catgirls, Cunnilingus, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, F/F, F/M, Filming, Formalwear, Frottage, Gags, Glory Hole, Groping, Hand Jobs, Hangover, Human Furniture, Kinktober, Kinktober 2020, Lapdance, Loud Sex, Love Potion/Spell, M/M, Massage, Master/Pet, Masturbation, Nipple Piercings, Nipple Play, Nudity, Partner Swapping, Pegging, Public Sex, Punishment, Rimming, Scratching, Sex Tapes, Sex Toys, Shawarma Ending, Spanking, Taxes, Texting, Uniform Kink, Whipping, Witchcraft, kitten play, naughty old ladies, safe words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:28:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 32
Words: 12,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26751334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistoffLikeKristoff/pseuds/MistoffLikeKristoff
Summary: A new kink for each day in October!  Relationship tags and Additional tags will be updated as each prompt is filled.  Table of Contents in Chapter 1 contains the outline.  Enjoy!
Relationships: Bombalurina/Demeter (Cats), Bombalurina/Pouncival (Cats), Bombalurina/Rum Tum Tugger, Cassandra/Tantomile (Cats), Demeter/Munkustrap (Cats), Electra/Quaxo (Cats), Jellylorum/Jennyanydots, Jemima/Mr. Mistoffelees (Cats), Jemima/Victoria (Cats), Jennyanydots/Rum Tum Tugger (Cats), Macavity/Mungojerrie (Cats), Mr. Mistoffelees/Munkustrap (Cats), Mr. Mistoffelees/Rum Tum Tugger (Cats), Mungojerrie/Munkustrap (Cats), Mungojerrie/Rumpleteazer (Cats), Munkustrap/Victoria (Cats), Plato/Victoria (Cats), Rum Tum Tugger/Skimbleshanks, Rumpleteazer/Victoria (Cats)
Comments: 44
Kudos: 90





	1. Table of Contents

This work is a series of Cats the Musical vignettes set to Kinktober Prompts from this list:

<https://archiveofourown.org/works/23466580>

Includes a variety of pairings and subjects and productions/themes/universes. Each day is tagged in the table of contents in Chapter One. Vignette-specific warnings will be in the Notes section at the beginning of the chapter.

All characters featured are _above the age of consent_. If not included explicitly in the fic, please note that any kink activities have been discussed and negotiated “offstage”. This work does _not include any non-con_.

Thank you and enjoy!

**Table of Contents**

**Day One--** Prompt: **Gags** , Pairing: Bombalurina and Demeter (Stage Production)

 **Day Two** \-- Prompt: **Caging** , Pairing: Plato and Victoria (Catboy/Catgirl appearance; any production)

 **Day Three** \-- Prompt: **Nudes** , Pairing: Rum Tum Tugger and Mistoffelees (Human AU)

 **Day Four** \-- Prompt: **Daddy** , Pairing: Rum Tum Tugger and Skimbleshanks (any production)

 **Day Five** \-- Prompt: **Public Sex** , Pairing: Victoria and Jemima (Human AU)

 **Day Six** \-- Prompt: **Rimming** , Pairing: Macavity and Mungojerrie (any production)

 **Day Seven** \-- Prompt: **Whips** , Pairing: Jennyanydots and Jellylorum (Stage Production)

 **Day Eight** \-- Prompt: **Partner Swap** , Pairing: Mistoffelees and Jemima (with secondary Munkustrap and Victoria)

 **Day Nine** \-- Prompt: **Begging** , Pairing: Munkustrap and Mistoffelees (Human AU, 2019)

 **Day Ten** \-- Prompt: **Aphrodisiacs** , Pairing: Cassandra and Tantomile (Stage Production; guest starring Etcetera)

 **Day Eleven** \-- Prompt: **Spanking** , Pairing: Rum Tum Tugger and Mistoffelees (any production)

 **Day Twelve** \-- Prompt: **Lapdance** , Pairing: Munkustrap and Demeter

 **Day Thirteen** \-- Prompt: **Handjobs** , Pairing: Munkustrap and Demeter _(continuation of Day 12 story)_

 **Day Fourteen** \-- Prompt: **Frottage** , Pairing: Rum Tum Tugger and Skimbleshanks (any production)

 **Day Fifteen** \-- Prompt: **Pet Play** , Pairing: Victoria and Jemima (Human AU)

 **Day Sixteen** \-- Prompt: **Body Swap** , Pairing: Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer (any production)

 **Day Seventeen** \-- Prompt: **Formal Wear** , Pairing: Munkustrap and Mistoffelees (Human AU)

 **Day Eighteen** \-- Prompt: **Anal Sex** , Pairing: Munkustrap and Mistoffelees _(continuation of Day 17 story)_

 **Day Nineteen** \-- Prompt: **Nipple Play** , Pairing: Rumpleteazer and Victoria (any production)

 **Day Twenty** \-- Prompt: **Human Furniture** , Pairing: Bombalurina and Pouncival (any production)

 **Day Twenty-one** \-- Prompt: **Pegging** , Pairing: Plato and Victoria _(continuation of Day 2 story, kind of?)_

 **Day Twenty-two** \-- Prompt: **Recording** , Pairing: Rum Tum Tugger and Jennyanydots (2019)

 **Day Twenty-three** \-- Prompt: **Piercings** , Pairing: Plato and Victoria _(continuation of Day 2 and 21 story)_

 **Day Twenty-four** \-- Prompt: **Massage** , Pairing: Quaxo and Electra (College AU)

 **Day Twenty-five** \-- Prompt: **Biting** , Pairing: Macavity and Mungojerrie (any production)

 **Day Twenty-six** \-- Prompt: **Uniforms** , Pairing: Munkustrap and Mistoffelees (Human AU)

 **Day Twenty-seven** \-- Prompt: **Groping** , Pairing: Rum Tum Tugger and Bombalurina (any production)

 **Day Twenty-eight** \-- Prompt: **Scratching** , Pairing: Rum Tum Tugger and Bombalurina _(continuation of Day 27 story)_

 **Day Twenty-nine** \-- Prompt: **Glory Hole** , Pairing: Munkustrap and Mungojerrie (any production)

 **Day Thirty** \-- Prompt: **Aftercare** , Pairing: Bombalurina and Demeter (Stage Production)

 **Day Thirty-one** \-- Prompt: **Free Space!** , Pairing: None


	2. Day One: Gags

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October 1st  
> Prompt: Gags  
> Pairing: Bombalurina and Demeter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Specific content warnings for this chapter: Gags, bondage

“You’ll tell me if it starts to hurt.”

Demeter nodded.

“You remember your signal.”

Demeter nodded again.

“Show me.”

Kneeling, with her arms tied behind her, Demeter shook the bell in her palm lightly. It made a silvery tinkling sound.

“Good girl. Shake it and we’ll pause. Drop it and we’ll stop.”

Demeter already knew she didn’t want to stop, even as the drool was starting to collect at the corners of her mouth. The rubber ball was wedged between her teeth, her jaw pried open just enough to feel a stretch, which gave her a strangely involuntary sensation. The straps pulled her lips taut. She made a short affirmative noise with her palate, hum reverberating in her head.

Demeter felt one of Bombalurina’s fingernails scraping lightly against her face, following the line of the strap from her ear to her parted lips. Bombalurina’s finger made a little circular motion to gather the growing moisture she found there, and brought it to her own lips in a lewd imitation of a kiss.

Bombalurina smiled at her partner lasciviously, rolling her finger over her own tongue, a carnal promise. She moved behind Demeter, kneeling too, not touching, no contact between them-- letting Demeter recognize the heat of her body, the sound of her breath.

Demeter had struggled to focus on their intimacy, much to her own frustration. She was still haunted by specters from her past, and her greatest wish was to free herself, to lose herself in Bomba.

Bombalurina would do anything to please her-- do anything to give her pleasure. They’d tried a few different efforts, but it had always ended in disappointment. An errant sound would startle Demeter out of the moment, or her mind would wander to a dark memory. 

The gag and rope required her to surrender to Bomba completely. She was controlled, yet somehow completely in control.

“Spread your legs,” Bombalurina, still crouching behind her, still not touching, whispered into her ear, breath tickling the sensitive skin.

Demeter moaned softly around the ball wedged between her teeth, already desperate for contact. A thin string of saliva dropped from her lips and, breaking, landed on her left breast. Bombalurina chuckled low in her throat, reaching out with a steady hand to wipe the spit away.

The teasing touch turned into a firm pressure against her nipple, and Demeter pulled against her restraints. “I said, spread your legs, Demeter,” Bombalurina purred.


	3. Day Two: Caging

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October 2nd  
> Prompt: Caging  
> Pairing: Plato and Victoria

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Specific content warnings for this chapter: BDSM, punishment, cunnilingus, catboy, catgirl

The leather banquette above Plato’s head squeaked a little as Victoria adjusted her weight.

He was pretty sure she was reading a magazine. She had brought one in with her, and occasionally he heard the crinkle of pages turning. He thought he’d spotted a pretty smiling face on the cover, some text about beauty-- 

Plato furrowed his brow, chastising himself. It wasn’t his place to speculate on what his mistress was doing. Her business was her own. He should just wait, quietly, until called upon. He was disappointed in himself; he wasn’t very good at this yet. There wasn’t room enough in his cage to sit up fully, but he did shift to lying on his other side, and tried to will his mind to blankness.

“Plato,” Victoria’s voice was firm and commanding, even despite its sweetness, and it cut him to the bone. “I can see your tail.”

He couldn’t help it-- he gasped. Turning slightly, he saw his unruly tail had slipped free between the black metal bars, an unacceptable error. 

“Sloppy, Plato,” Victoria said. “You are disrespecting your very nice den.”

“I’m so sorry, Victoria,” he whispered, ears flattened to his head, pulling his tail in as though it were burning. “I will do better.” 

Victoria made a noncommittal humming noise as she slid off her cushioned perch above his cage to look her naughty submissive in the eye. “You like your den, don’t you?”

Plato nodded fervently, pulling his knees beneath him, kneeling low for her, to show what a good cat he could be.

“Then I think you owe me an apology,” Victoria mused, an elegant hand idly stroking up one of the bars before sneaking between to tap his nose playfully.

Plato shivered with dueling emotions; apprehensive of his punishment, but anticipating pleasure, because Victoria took care of him oh so well. Oh Everlasting, she was sliding her panties off.

Victoria lifted the leather banquette top off the cage and set it carefully aside, before seating herself atop the metal bars above her captive, swinging a leg over to the other side to straddle the cage as though riding it, her white lace dress hiked up past her knees to accommodate the stretch. Her white tail was quivering, just slightly. “You’re going to hold onto the bars, here,” she tapped spots adjacent to each of her parted thighs, “and here”.

“Yes, mistress,” Plato promised.

“And you aren’t going to let go until I tell you.”

“Yes, mistress.”

“Do I need to handcuff you to the bars?”

“No, mistress. I’ll keep my hands where you told me.”

Victoria smiled sweetly. “Good.” She pulled the hem of her skirt up further, revealing soft pale flesh, pressed against the unforgiving bars, labia framed by metal, for Plato’s ministrations. “Taste me.”

Plato immediately set to work, kneeling for the best access underneath his beloved, his hands obediently gripping the cage. He exhaled against her silky skin, pressing his lips to her stomach, then lower. Her moans of delight began to firm his stirring erection. 

He licked the delicate skin between her thighs, tracing back to the center of her, kissing trails around every spot he could reach. He suckled her intimately, reveling in the moisture he found there, coating her vagina with a wet mingling of arousal and saliva. He lapped against her folds, tongue traveling in long sweeps, seeking to stimulate and please.

Plato was rewarded with Victoria’s halting breaths and squirming motions, stutters of her hips encouraging him towards her clitoris. He obliged; of course he obliged, this was his mistress.

He’d do anything for her.


	4. Day Three: Nudes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October 3rd  
> Prompt: Nudes  
> Pairing: Rum Tum Tugger and Mistoffelees

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Specific content warnings for this chapter: Dirty texting, very naughty language, human AU

His phone buzzed as the train rounded Sloane Square. Mistoffelees reached into his pocket to check the notification. He’d been getting so many spam messages lately, he thought with vague annoyance, as he powered up the screen.

_Ah._ A text from Tugger.

“what r u doing” --accompanied by a photo of Tugger making a pouty face at the camera.

Mistoffelees smiled at the sight, then remembered he was surrounded by other passengers. He looked from side to side sheepishly; assured that no one caught his embarrassing grin, he began typing back.

“On the tube, headed to tutoring. Dinner later?”

The app warned him that Tugger was typing back.

“send a pic” came the cheeky reply. Misto smirked down at his phone, despite himself.

“No room, the train is pretty crowded today.”

“booooooo u suck”

Mistoffelees laughed, which turned a few commuters’ heads towards him; he quickly covered it with a cough. Two coughs.

“Maybe we can get curry, watch a movie at your place?”

A pause. No typing. The St. James station came and went. Misto felt a little flush on the back of his neck. Tugger always liked to make plans on his own terms, so fine, if he didn’t _want_ to have dinner together--

His phone buzzed. Misto’s heart jumped, and he opened the message -- just a photo?

Tugger was in his flat, on his sofa, lounging in that very particular boneless manner he was so good at. His hair looked artfully mussed, intentional dishevelment. His eyelids were hooded, in a casually self-aware sensual manner, and he was looking at the camera. Looking right at Misto. He was tugging up his black t-shirt to show off his well-sculpted abdominals.

Mistoffelees made a noise. It was definitely not a squeak. He cleared his throat, which was suddenly feeling very dry.

“like the cum gutters?” came the follow-up text.

Mistoffelees very seriously considered snapping his phone in half. “That’s disgusting”, he settled for typing as a response.

“sorry”, immediately followed by “too much? don’t be mad”

Misto exhaled fondly, blowing his bangs out of his eyes. “I’m not mad.”

Another photo. This time, the shirt was gone, and Tugger was touching a nipple with his free hand, fingertips just barely touching the darkened skin. His eyes were too intense, just the slightest smirk on his lips.

Misto clutched his phone to his chest, hoping no one else had seen-- not bothering to disguise his frantic look at the other passengers. He knew he looked _so_ guilty. But why should he? It’s Tugger who was being the bad one here.

The train braked to a halt. A large group of tourists shuffled off at Westminster station, which gave Mistoffelees a few moments of freedom to move against the glass, for just a touch more privacy before more people crowded onto the train. He took a deep breath to steady himself.

“Tugger, stop it, I’m still on the train.”

“then stop looking”, came the very reasonable reply. 

He had Misto there.

Another photo, a tight shot this time, of fingers unfastening the button at the top of his jeans. A salacious little glimpse of his underwear waistband was visible.

Mistoffelees knew he should just tuck his phone back in his pocket, and ignore him. His cheeks were pink and flushed already. He needed to think about something else before his interest became even _more_ apparent.

His phone buzzed. Tugger was in front of the full-length mirror in his bedroom, phone visible in the reflection, shirt off, jeans off, _underwear gone,_ his fingers split into a downwards v, framing his--

Mistoffelees kept his phone out.


	5. Day Four: Daddy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October 4th  
> Prompt: Daddy  
> Pairing: Rum Tum Tugger and Skimbleshanks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Specific content warnings for this chapter: Daddy kink, nudity, masturbation

Skimbleshanks peered around his easel with a flat expression. “You know you’re not supposed to move around so much,” he said, with his usual matter-of-fact intonation.

Tugger shifted his shoulders and frowned. He was reclining on a velvet chaise, unabashedly nude except for a white sheet deftly draped for discretion. Well, the sheet  _ had  _ been deftly draped, Skimbleshanks internally mourned, until Tugger had started… squirming. Now it had slipped off his torso, puddling more on the floor than offering any actual concealment.

“I can’t help it, you know how I am!”, Tugger fell back against the cushion with a bit too much drama. “I don’t know why you thought I’d be good at posing.”

“You are  _ extremely  _ good at posing,” Skimble mused, “but maybe less a 'natural' as a life model. I suppose that’s on me.” He leaned back from his canvas, eyeing it intently and tilting his head left then right. “I’m not sure if this session is salvageable…”

Tugger arched his back in a bow, raising his arms above his head in both an overdue stretch and a celebration of freedom. “I think we can still salvage it.” The white sheet slithered to the floor, finally completely unmoored. 

Skimble ran a hand over his face. “Why are you like this,” he muttered aloud, eyes decidedly not lingering on the now-completely naked Tugger.

Tugger tipped his chin up a bit, and let his legs fall naturally akimbo, fully exposing himself. “Are you going to get over here and take care of me,  _ Daddy _ , or am I going to have to take care of myself?” He brought a finger up to his own mouth and ran it across his lower lip.

“Oh, I’m not taking that bait, Tugger,” Skimble chuckled lowly. “Why don’t you get started and Daddy will decide if he wants to join in.” He leaned back in his chair, face still half-obscured from Tugger by the easel. “Impress me.”

Casually twisting on the chaise, Tugger turned to lie on his stomach, firm ass on display. “It’s cold over here, come warm me up,” he purred as he dragged one hand along the floor, miming pulling Skimble towards him.

“Of course it’s cold, you took your sheet off.”

Tugger stuck his tongue out. “Daddy, you’re mean,” he pouted as he arched his back, sliding his hips back and forth just a bit against the velvet.

Skimble raised a single eyebrow, unfazed. He did, however, adjust his sitting position just slightly, to enjoy a more comfortable performance. Wouldn’t let Tugger know that, of course.

Huffing in annoyance, Tugger flipped over onto his back again, showing off the long lines of his body. He ran his hands down his neck, across his chest, to his hips, before stroking slow lazy pumps on his hardening penis. He bit his bottom lip as the stimulation began to sweeten, fluttering half-closed eyes at Skimble, letting small moans escape. Tugger turned his body to face Skimble, to really show him what he was missing. His fingers drifted towards his tightening sac and he _ached_.

“That’s good,” Skimble said.

“Mm, Daddy, get--”, Tugger fisted his erection with a steady hand, his other hand running over the globes of his ass in a clear display of wantonness, “get _over here_.”

Skimble’s face was unreadable. “That’s not how we ask.”

Tugger groaned, growing more desperate by the moment. His dick was rock hard and he wanted Skimble, and Tugger always got what he wanted. “P-please,” he gritted out.

Skimbleshanks smiled. “Oh, now that’s a good boy.”


	6. Day Five: Public Sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October 5th  
> Prompt: Public Sex  
> Pairing: Victoria and Jemima

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Specific content warnings for this chapter: Cute girls on a date, public sex, cunnilingus, fingering, human AU
> 
> Reiterating from the Table of Contents, ALL characters are adults. Thank you :)

“I want that bear,” Victoria said, pointing.

Jemima nodded earnestly. She lifted the bright pink plastic hoop up to the level of her eye, took a deep breath, and tossed it towards the milk bottles in a gentle arc.

The hoop clattered against the rim of a bottle and fell to the asphalt.

Three times in a row.

Jemima and Victoria let out twin laments of frustration.

“Better luck next time,” the carnival worker shrugged and moved on to the next customer.

“I’m sorry, Victoria,” Jemima’s sweet face looked absolutely crestfallen.

Victoria shrugged, disappointment already fading. She took Jemima’s hand in her own and smiled. “It’s really okay-- these games are rigged anyway. Thank you for trying?”

Jemima squeezed her hand, blushing. “I usually have pretty good aim.”

“Oh, I know,” Victoria teased, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. Jemima laughed, mood lightened. 

“Let’s go have fun!”

The colorful lights of the carnival were so bright, they stung Jemima’s eyes a little. Everything was flashing and loud, and it made her feel wound up, wired.

A few spinning cart rides later, both women were ready for something a little less intense-- the Ferris wheel looming over the parking lot seemed the obvious choice. The ride operator looked very disinterested as he pushed them into a waiting gondola and locked them in with a comically tiny door. “Stay seated until the ride comes to a stop,” he intoned flatly, surely for the hundredth time that evening.

Victoria and Jemima sat across from each other on the rounded bench, trying to keep the tub balanced. They giggled a bit, nervously, at the creaks and squeals of the metal frame as the wheel began to move. 

Jemima loved the view from up high, being so close to the night sky, able to see the lights of the city twinkling. She excitedly turned to Victoria to share this but instead found Victoria staring at her.

She gulped reflexively. “The, uh, the view is really pretty.”

Victoria nodded, soft eyes and blushing cheeks, but made no move to look away from Jemima.

Jemima felt suddenly very hot, under the night sky, under Victoria’s scrutiny. The cacophonous music and shouting patrons all felt very far away. 

She wanted to touch Victoria so badly. It was definitely a bad idea, she knew, as the Ferris wheel ground to a halt to allow another passenger to board. 

But what harm could it do?

Jemima slid off the bench, crouching on the floor of the gondola, moving slowly so as not to unsettle the balance. Victoria was smiling at her, that smile just for her, and it made her bold. She touched the hem of Victoria’s skirt at her knees, and rucked it up, exposing her thighs. 

The gondola lurched forward again, and it threw Jemima into Victoria with more force than she’d intended, her chest against Victoria’s legs.

Victoria smirked conspiratorially and spread her legs for Jemima to fit between. “That guy told us to stay seated, Jemima.”

Jemima ran her tongue over her teeth, pulling Victoria’s hips forward, exposing her white lacy panties. She pressed her lips to the waistband, then licked a path down the soft fabric.

Victoria threw her head back against the metal bar, letting a soft groan escape into the warm night air. She put her feet up on the bench across from her, to afford Jemima better access, burying her fingers in Jemima’s short auburn hair.

The wheel stopped, with their car at the peak of the crest, swinging gently with the soft summer breeze. Jemima took the opportunity to double her efforts, pulling Victoria’s panties to one side to reveal the center of her, already glistening with anticipation. She began with soft caresses with her tongue, gently pushing her petals apart, exploring the warmth she found there. Jemima was always intoxicated by the way Victoria tasted, by the sounds of her moans, by the soft velvety skin of her inner folds that gently gave way to the pressure of her mouth.

“ _ J-jemima _ ,” Victoria moaned, lifting her head with some effort to clear the fog that had settled there, “Jemima, we don’t have much time, we can’t get c-caught...”

Jemima made an assenting noise. She gripped at Victoria’s hips, and directed her pressure on the clitoris-- steady, demanding strokes of the tongue that circled and pressed against the sensitive nerves and set her alight. She pushed two fingers inside her, and immediately began to thrust in time with her tongue. Rocking the gondola with the force of her efforts, Jemima sought to wring an orgasm out of Victoria’s shuddering frame.

The Ferris wheel finally swung back into motion, metal screeching almost managing to mask the echoing sounds of Victoria’s cries as she climaxed.

Their gondola reached the bottom, and the attendant opened the door with a muttered apology for the delay. Victoria and Jemima ran for the exit, holding hands, absolutely unable to stop giggling.


	7. Day Six: Rimming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October 6th  
> Prompt: Rimming  
> Pairing: Macavity and Mungojerrie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Specific content warnings for this chapter: Rimming, terrible comedy

Macavity eyed Mungojerrie suspiciously.

“You’ve never done this before.”

“Nope.”

“ _ You. _ Of all people.”

“I never had the opportunity before? I dunno, it seems fun though.”

“I mean, I’m not disappointed, I’m just surprised.”

“Are you going to kick me out of the gang?”

A beat.

“No, I’m not going to kick you out of my gang for never having rimmed before, Mungojerrie.”

“Phew! That’s a relief, because--”

“When I kick you out of my gang, it will be because you have done something  _ monumentally _ stupid. Well above your usual level of stupidity.”

“That’s really rude, Boss. I’m hurt. Now, do you want me to eat your ass out or not?”

“I wouldn’t be sticking it in your face if I didn’t want you to eat it.”


	8. Day Seven: Whips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October 7th  
> Prompt: Whips  
> Pairing: Jennyanydots and Jellylorum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Specific content warnings for this chapter: Naughty old ladies, a whip, Jenny has a Hoarding problem

Jellylorum was appalled by the state of Jenny’s den. She was going to say something to her about it, she told herself, as she picked up yet another piece of bric-a-brac-- was this a lid from some sort of foodstuff?

Frightful.

She had to say something.

Jenny was taking a nap in her most beloved spot, next to the automobile engine. Jelly cleared her throat loudly to get her attention.

“Jennyanydots, you know _very well_ that’s the most dangerous place to sleep! What if some human came to use the car”, Jellylorum admonished as Jenny rolled and stretched herself back to waking. 

Jenny yawned widely, which Jelly had to admit was awfully cute.

“Do as I say, not as I do-- that’s what I always tell the kittens!”, Jenny said cheerfully. “Lovely to see you, Jelly, is it tea time already?”

“Is it--! No, it isn't tea time!” Jellylorum huffed. “We have got to talk about your den, Jenny. You simply have too much stuff!”

Jenny pursed her lips in a quizzical look. “Well, that can’t be right,” she said, navigating the narrow path through the junkyard to her personal nook. She pushed aside the handkerchief that acted as the door to her den and went inside. “It looks perfectly cozy in here!”

Jelly’s eyes couldn’t get any bigger. “Jenny, it’s a mess!” From a jumble near the bike wheel, she picked up a fork, and another fork, and then another. “ _Jenny._ ”

“Forks are useful in battle!”

Jelly continued sifting through the piles. “You have so many unfinished knitting projects here.”

“Some of those, the kittens started! They are precious!”

Jellylorum shook her head in disbelief. “I just don’t--”, she began, but stopped as her hand found something particularly unusual. “Jenny, why… why do you have a whip?”

Jenny averted her gaze, rubbing her hand on the back of her neck nervously. “Well, _technically_ speaking, it’s a cat o' nine tails, which is a type of flail--”

“And, why do you have it?”

Jenny ducked her head, face flushed beet red. “W-well, you know I like discipline--”

Jelly boggled. “You are not using this on the cockroaches!”

“It’s not like that!” Jenny was blushing so hard she was afraid she might pass out. “I would never! ...I just thought I might enjoy it sometime, if…”

Jellylorum tried to moderate her frustration and confusion. “If?”

Her softest, sweetest voice finished, “If you wanted to use it on me?”

Jellylorum felt a blush rising to her own cheeks. She paused to mull over this very sudden proposal. “I didn’t realize you wanted that sort of thing, Jenny.”

“So… what do you think?”

Jelly tested the flail lightly against her own hand, and smirked a bit. “You do deserve some serious punishment for this messy house.”

“Noooooooo--”

“Fine. Clean up a bit, and then I’ll punish you.”

Jenny’s smile lit up the den.


	9. Day Eight: Partner Swap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October 8th  
> Prompt: Partner Swap  
> Pairing: Jemima and Mistoffelees (guest starring Munkustrap and Victoria)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Specific content warnings for this chapter: Partner swapping (aka swinging), loud sex, awkwardness

It was unclear who first suggested it. It was just a dirty little fantasy. But trading naughty winks and whispers amongst each other eventually coalesced into an actual plan.

Everyone had _enthusiastically_ agreed.

“Yes, that’s so good, ohhhhh,” Victoria’s breathy moans were audible through the open doorway.

Mistoffelees had been absolutely game for the adventure, of course. But now, as the couples were split up, it seemed like there was a definite gap in the… _assertiveness_ of the pairs in this swinging session.

Jemima and Mistoffelees were in the living room, on the sofa. Perfectly cordial.

Victoria and Munkustrap were in the bedroom. And having a very solid go of it, from the sounds of it.

“Are you comfortable, Jemima?”, Misto asked, shifting in his seat, pretending like this was a perfectly normal way to spend an evening.

“Yes, very,” she replied, with a polite smile.

“Unnhh, Victoria, your _tongue_ ,” Munk’s voice echoed from the bedroom.

Jemima and Misto made the briefest of eye contacts before awkwardness broke them up.

“Could--”, Jemima started.

“Yes?!”, Misto leaned forward, and immediately realized it was way too aggressive for the situation.

“Could you get me a beer?”, she finished quietly.

“Yes!”

Mistoffelees definitely didn’t trip over the ottoman in his rush to the fridge.

Victoria’s sweet sobs seemed to fill the whole flat. “Ohhh Munk, more, fuck me like you _mean_ it--!”

Mistoffelees coughed gently, handing the can of saison to Jemima, his fingers brushing against hers. She blushed and bit her bottom lip.

“Misto,” Jemima looked at him earnestly as she opened the can and took a sip, “you know we don’t have to do anything, if you- if you aren’t into it tonight. Or any night.”

“Oh god,” Misto said, trying to drown out the rhythmic thrusting and thumping noises from next door. “It’s not that, you are absolutely gorgeous and it would be an _honor_ \--”

Jemima took another long swallow and set down the drink. “That’s why it’s weird, though? You sound like you’ve got wedding night jitters. I know from a good source,” she leaned in, head tilted, so close to the line of his jaw, taking in the scent of him, “that you aren’t usually like that.”

Her eyelashes were so long, veiling her round eyes as they gazed at him, cheeks pink, and Mistoffelees thought yeah, maybe he _could_ do this.

Mistoffelees grasped Jemima’s shoulders as casually as he could manage, and turned his head towards her, to start this with a kiss.

Their noses collided.

“Ow--!” Jemima yelped.

The bedsprings creaking next door came to a sudden halt, as Victoria and Munkustrap both yelled in unison, “Jemima, are you okay?”

Jemima, holding her aching nose with both hands, locked eyes with Misto.

“Foursome?”

He breathed the heaviest sigh of relief of his life.

" _Foursome_.”


	10. Day Nine: Begging

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October 9th  
> Prompt: Begging  
> Pairing: Munkustrap and Mistoffelees

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Specific content warnings for this chapter: Sex Toys, Begging, Light dom/sub, Human AU (I was thinking 2019 but you do you)

Tears were already stinging at the corner of Mistoffelees’ eyes. 

The really embarrassing part was, the vibrator hadn’t even been _turned on yet_. Just the insertion process had gotten him to this state. Munkustrap’s gentle hands, deliciously long fingers, pushing and stretching, lubricating-- he always used too much lube, he was always too careful not to hurt Misto.

The filthy sensation of the excess body-warmed silky liquid dribbling out of his hole was… stimulating.

The toy was curved to rub up against just the right spot, with a solidly thick base to keep it firmly in place. Mistoffelees experimentally rotated his hips, just a bit, to test the sensation, and immediately bit back a moan. His face was so flushed, heartbeat pounding in his ears already. He tried to take a deep steadying breath, but his lungs felt stilted, ragged.

“Are you ready?”, Munkustrap asked, voice husky and low. He was seated in a chair, not on the bed-- they both knew he couldn’t be trusted not to touch if they were in bed together. He was still mostly dressed, shirt sleeves rolled up-- legs elegantly crossed, rolling the remote control between his fingers as though he were the magician in the relationship.

Mistoffelees felt his nudity more keenly, on display as he was, and he felt like his nerve endings were on fire. “Y-yes,” he nodded slightly. He rolled onto his side, body a tensed bowstring.

“Okay then,” Munk said matter-of-factly, and toggled the vibrator to life.

Mistoffelees was immediately overwhelmed by sensation, by the shimmering pulse of silicone nudging his prostate. Distantly, he was aware that he was moaning. He knotted the bedsheets in his fists to keep his hands away from his erect cock-- oh how he so _dearly_ wanted to palm his dick, just a little, take some of the pressure off. But Munk had been clear, no touching without permission.

He didn’t have permission.

The room was filled with the sounds of the bed creaking as Mistoffelees shifted, unable to lie still, his moans and the tinny buzz of the vibrator creating an obscene harmony. It felt so good, he was overwhelmed by how good it felt-- but he wanted more. Needed more.

“M-munk, may I--”

“No,” the response cut him off. The vibrator intensity was stepped up for good measure.

“Munk, please, please--”

Mistoffelees was shaking so hard now, his vision blurred, tears tracking down his cheeks. He felt unmoored, releasing the sheets to instead clutch the headboard in a death grip.

“Munk, I can’t, this is too much,” Misto panted, breath coming in short heaves, hips jerking erratically. “Munk, please, Munk, I’m so hard--”

Munkustrap maintained his distance.

Mistoffelees moaned at the neglect, repeating Munk’s name over and over like an incantation, like a favorite song. “Munk, I need this, I need you, please, please let me come, please let me come, please…”

His eyes were squeezed shut, hips unable to stop their shallow thrusts into nothingness, as a pathetic stream of whines and pleading fell from his mouth unbidden. He felt the mattress shift as Munkustrap sat next to him, felt a strong hand gripping his cock, and his orgasm was almost immediate. His body folded in on itself; the force of the climax punched the air from his lungs, left him gasping, crying.

The vibrator was switched off, and Munk’s hands (once again gentle, once again forgiving) pulled it free from Misto’s exhausted body. Munk rubbed his back tenderly as the aftershocks rolled through him.

“Beautiful,” Munk whispered with the fondness he saved only for Mistoffelees.

Mistoffelees pulled him down into a kiss.


	11. Day Ten: Aphrodisiacs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October 10th  
> Prompt: Aphrodisiacs  
> Pairing: Cassandra and Tantomile
> 
> Also featuring Etcetera

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Specific content warnings for this chapter: Witchcraft, love potions

Etcetera tapped on the side of the plush armchair that acted as the entrance to the Place of Secrets in the junkyard.

(No one was quite certain how it had gotten designated as such; Cassandra had authoritatively set up her spellbooks, ritual objects and divination materials, and declared that this was where the Coven would operate. Munkustrap was never one to argue with Cassandra over such things, even if he had no idea what a Coven was. That was Cassandra’s business, not his.)

Tantomile ushered Etcetera into the space. “Please watch your step,” Tantomile intoned. Etcetera dodged around the many candles and totems strewn about the dim enclosure-- she’d never actually been in here before. This was where the cool older weirdo cats hung out. But, desperate times!

A tattered sheet hung over the nook, stretched from chair to ladder to abandoned bicycle, with a large hole in the center through which you could see the beautiful night sky. Etcetera looked up and smiled at the moon peeking through the clouds.

“Etcetera, beware,” Cassandra chided, “you are treading upon my magic circle.”

Etcetera looked down and sure enough, she had smeared a bit of chalk with her feet and tail. She jumped back and nearly knocked over a table of oils. _Oof, not off to a great start here, Etcetera_ , she thought to herself.

Tantomile and Cassandra leaned into each other, holding hands, unmoving, as they sat upon a large bolster. Staring at her expectantly.

Etcetera shifted from foot to foot. She decided to get right to the point.

“I need a love potion.”

Each cat raised a single elegant eyebrow-- Tantomile her right, Cassandra her left. “Whatever for,” Cassandra inquired.

Etcetera was full of determination. “I’m going to make Tugger love me!”

Cassandra and Tantomile sighed, in unison. “Terrible choice,” Tantomile said. “Your star charts are not at all compatible.”

Cassandra nodded. “Better to use a potion on a more suitable candidate.”

“Have you considered Carbucketty?”

Etcetera made a face like she tasted something sour. “But I want _Tugger_ , he’s so hot and sexy and cool!”

The older cats shook their heads slowly. 

“This is not what love potions are for,” Cassandra said. “You cannot change the heart of a cat who does not love you.”

Tantomile signaled her agreement. “A cat who harbors no feelings towards you will not grow them as a result of a potion. A potion simply amplifies existing feelings.”

“Breaks down self-imposed barriers.”

“And flares physical responses.”

Etcetera pouted. “This is so unfair.”

Tantomile gazed into Cassandra’s eyes. “Remember the first potion I used on you?”

Cassandra looked wistful. “You snuck it into a bowl of cream. I couldn’t see straight for days.”

Tantomile inched closer. “But you returned the favor, sprinkling potion on that tuna. I don’t know if I would have been brave enough to kiss you, without it.”

Cassandra closed the distance between them, until their noses were almost touching. “And I so desperately wanted to kiss you.”

Tantomile’s eyelids lowered, sharing her breath. “Yes? And will you kiss me now?”

Etcetera made a loud frustrated huffing noise. “WHY ARE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS,” she shouted, pushing her way out of the coven space. “I should have known they’d be no help,” she muttered.

She heard the queens yelling at her as she departed, “Consider Carbucketty--!”


	12. Day Eleven: Spanking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October 11th  
> Prompt: Spanking  
> Pairing: Rum Tum Tugger and Mistoffelees

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Specific content warnings for this chapter: Spanking, bondage, blindfold, use of a safe word, Misto is a brat

“Ohhhhh yeah,” Tugger moaned wantonly, stripped from the waist down, eyes blindfolded, wrists bound. He was lying on the bed, ass up, face down.

Mistoffelees had been spanking him for what seemed like hours now. Oh fuck, it was so hot too. He’d make Tugger wait for it, stretching out the anticipation, until he was begging for it, then reward him with a sharp strike from the paddle.

_[smack]_

“Mmmmmm”, Tugger wiggled his ass in an aggressive display intended to entice. “Mistoooo, baby, isn’t it time to move on to the next course?”

No response.

“Misto, you’re killing me here.”

“. . .”

“Hey Misto?”

Tugger stopped moving. “. . . I don’t want to use my safe word here, but your silence is making me feel weird.” He rubbed his face against the mattress to dislodge the blindfold. Turning, he saw the paddle.

Hovering in mid-air.

With no Mistoffelees.

Tugger’s eyes narrowed. “Turnip,” he said, and the paddle immediately clattered to the ground.

_No way._

Mistoffelees was in the kitchen, drinking a cup of tea and eating a scone. “Ah, Tugger!”, he smiled as Tugger lumbered down the staircase, arms still bound behind him, no pants.

Tugger’s mouth turned downwards in an almost comical frown. “You. Left. Me.”

“The paddle was spelled to react to your safe word! And honestly I was getting a little bored, so I thought I’d get a nosh.”

“. . . Mistoffelees, I’m so upset right now.”

Misto smiled warmly. “I figured, so I baked you a scone too.”

Tugger’s frown lightened, somewhat. “Well, I _do_ love scones.”


	13. Day Twelve: Lapdance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October 12th  
> Prompt: Lapdance  
> Pairing: Munkustrap and Demeter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Specific content warning for this chapter: Lapdance

By the time Demeter was satisfied with the sequence, she and Munkustrap were the only ones left in the dance studio.

She had been working on this particular routine for weeks, a new work by a young choreographer that she was eager to highlight. But she felt like she was struggling to get to the heart of the piece, to really make it sing.

“It’s looking absolutely stunning,” Munk told Demeter, passing her a water bottle. “The emotions during the last third come through very clearly.”

Demeter was exhausted, rivulets of sweat rolling down her temple, as she drank the water gratefully and tried to regulate her breathing. “I hope so,” she managed.

Munkustrap smiled, ushering her towards a folding chair to cool off. 

Demeter felt so tense. “I feel like I still need to push myself. This should be something _special_.”

“You’re too far in your own head,” Munkustrap said. “You need to loosen up. Relax.”

“Easy for you to say!”, she retorted. “This piece is important, and I don’t want to fuck it up.”

Munkustrap looked thoughtful for a moment, then acted. “Dem, I want you to put your arms behind the chair back. Yeah, right there, grab the sides.”

Demeter looked quizzical. “Is this a new stretching technique?”

“Absolutely not,” Munkustrap laughed warmly, as he switched the stereo to a thumping R&B track.

“What are you doing,” Demeter asked, eyebrows raising.

Munkustrap began swaying his hips to the beat, pulling at the black tank top that already didn’t leave much to the imagination, rucking it up to show off his stomach.

Demeter giggled, at his sweet earnestness, at the absurdity of the whole situation-- but couldn’t deny the flush that spread in her cheeks.

Munkustrap gave her a saucy wink and lifted his arms above his head, spinning on an imaginary pole, rising and falling, giving his ass a shimmy. He pulled his shirt entirely off and threw it at her. She caught it instinctively, pulling it to her chest.

“Uh-uh, hands behind your back, Miss,” Munkustrap admonished, “we can’t risk you touching the merchandise.”

Demeter blushed, and put her arms back behind the chair.

Munkustrap leaned in, spreading his legs as the music pulsed, moving to straddle Demeter’s thighs. His joggers, sweaty with exertion from their long dance session, clung to his body and Demeter couldn’t help but appreciate the view. She bit her bottom lip. 

He brushed his crotch against her knees, sliding up her thighs, tantalizing. He put his hands at his waistband and started to tug, skin exposed, bit by bit. 

Munk flipped his body around, back to her front, rubbing indecently, pushing his half-exposed ass against Demeter’s lap, turning his head back to look at her. When their eyes locked, he licked his lips thoroughly.

Demeter grabbed him by the hips, and smiled. “I think I’m relaxed now-- maybe you can help me work up a sweat again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously the song is "Pony" by Ginuwine, but you can imagine whatever you like (but OBVIOUSLY IT IS "PONY")


	14. Day Thirteen: Handjobs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October 13th  
> Prompt: Handjobs  
> Pairing: Munkustrap and Demeter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Specific content warnings for this chapter: Public sex, handjob
> 
> This is a continuation of the prompt from Day 12, Lapdance.

The lapdance had been… inspiring.

Demeter pushed Munkustrap from her lap to the dance studio floor. He landed on his hands and knees.

She stood up from her chair, and took a wide path to stand in front of him-- admiring the view as she went.

“You _seem_ relaxed, Dem,” Munkustrap laughed, his smile wide as he looked up at her. The music track had changed, something a little slower, something a little more romantic. Demeter leaned down to kiss Munkustrap, to kiss that smile right off his lips and replace it with something needier, something more desperate.

Kissing Demeter was always a minefield, she might go from cautious and shy to electric and sharp in a flash. But she gave him no time to consider what her mood might be, as she nipped at his lower lip and demanded entry with her tongue. His tongue met hers, head tilted up just a bit too far to be comfortable.

She knelt down to give him a better angle, mouths tasting, breath shared. She made a sweet humming noise into the kiss, burying her hands in his workout-damp hair. She carded her fingers through the strands and tickled at the nape of his neck, where she knew he was most sensitive. He pulled back from the kiss to gasp, and she took the opportunity to plant a string of kisses along his jawline, down to his exposed collarbone.

If anyone were to come into the studio now, there would be no explanation that wasn’t filthy.

Moving with her uncommon grace, she slid her hand along the side of his torso, stroking along his ribcage, until she was standing behind him again. Munk looked over his shoulder at her, lips pressure-red and cheeks flushed. “Demeter,” he breathed, not sure where this was going, or what he should be asking for.

She smiled, just the smallest bit wickedly, and draped herself over his back, running both hands over his chest, barely ghosting over his nipples.

Demeter explored lower, fingers pressing into well-toned muscles, to the faint gathering of hair that led to his groin. “You put on a really good show for me,” she whispered into his ear, “so let me return the favor.” She ran to her bag, grabbing some hand lotion, knowing that it wasn’t the best option but _he_ was the one who had ambushed _her_ , after all.

Demeter returned to balancing against his kneeling form-- what good was a ridiculously strong dancer boyfriend if you couldn’t exploit it now and again-- her breasts an enticing pressure against his back. She pulled on the waistband of his joggers and underwear and tugged downwards until his penis sprung free, half-hard already. Demeter wrapped a hand around his cock, earning a throaty moan from Munkustrap as she pressed against the head, running a finger over the weeping slit.

“Ohhhh Dem, that’s really good,” he moaned, uninhibited, as she began stroking lotion-slick fingers up and down his shaft.

"I thought I wasn't supposed to touch the merchandise," she teased, adding a twisting motion as she fell into the speed she knew he liked.

"Mmm I think I can make an, ahh, an exception."


	15. Day Fourteen: Frottage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October 14th  
> Prompt: Frottage  
> Pairing: Rum Tum Tugger and Skimbleshanks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Specific content warnings for this chapter: Implied frottage (or perhaps, pre-frottage?)

Skimbleshanks’ lips turned downwards. This was definitely not to his taste.

He’d already forgotten the band’s name, it was something pretentiously odd like “Criminal Staplers “ or “Militant Wombats”.

Very off-putting.

The music was loud, electric guitars squealing and overtoned with reverb. Was the lead just sitting on the effects pedal? It hit a screeching pitch that put his teeth on edge. Skimble looked at Tugger, hoping against hope that he was also miserable and would want to leave, but Tugger was enraptured, jumping up and down with the crowd, shouting and hollering as a particularly obnoxious guitar solo droned on and on.

Tugger, noticing the attention, turned to Skimble. He could read his discomfort on Skimble’s face. He shot him a knowing smile, teeth flashing. “There’s no escaping this crowd until the set is over,” he shouted into Skimble’s ear, “so enjoy it!”

Skimble visibly huffed.

Tugger laughed (or at least made a laughing motion, Skimble couldn’t hear it over the “music”), and moved behind him, grasping his waist, Skimble’s back to Tugger’s chest.

 _At least this feels nice,_ Skimble thought.

Tugger’s chest was sweaty from the heat of the crowd and the energy of his dancing-- he was practically radiating heat, and it made Skimble feel a little light-headed. Tugger’s hands gripped a little tighter, right above his hipbone and Skimble improbably _shivered_.

“You like this song?”, Tugger chuckled, breath on his cheek, noting the man’s sudden responsiveness.

They both knew he didn’t like the song.


	16. Day Fifteen: Pet Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October 15th  
> Prompt: Pet Play  
> Pairing: Victoria and Jemima

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Specific content warnings for this chapter: Kitten Play
> 
> Reiterating from the Table of Contents, ALL characters are adults; this is a pre-negotiated roleplay.

Victoria’s keys jingled as she unlocked the door to the flat. She set her purse on the kitchen counter and flipped on the light.

A soft meow came from the sofa. Victoria smiled.

“Jemima, are you looking to play?”

Two fabric kitten ears popped into Victoria’s line of sight, just peeking over the edge of the couch.

“I see you there, kitty cat. Have you been a good kitty today?”

Jemima made another meowing noise and hopped up onto the back of the couch, crouching. She had her favorite black kitten ears on, and had drawn on some very adorable whiskers. Her black roomwear was comfortable and fluffy, a short-sleeved top with stripey shorts, and she had on fuzzy socks with little cat feet printed on the bottom.

Victoria crossed the kitchen to give her favorite kitten a pet. She scritched behind Jemima’s ear, and got a sweet nuzzle in return.

“Are you hungry, Jemima?”, Victoria asked, stroking a hand over the back of Jemima’s soft shirt, earning another mewl and a nod.

Jemima rolled onto the plush seat of the couch, licking the back of her hand, smiling at Victoria. Victoria tapped her little kitten nose and ran to the kitchen to prep some food.

Jemima made another meowing sound, a bit impatient, a bit demanding.

Victoria hurried.

Returning to the living room with a bowl of chicken and pasta, she sat next to Jemima, who was curled up in a cute little ball. “Dinner’s ready,” Victoria said brightly. She picked up a bit of chicken in her fingers, blew on it to make sure it wasn’t too hot, and held it out in her open palm for Jemima.

Jemima leaned forward on all fours, sniffing the air, and smiled. Her pink mouth opened, tongue sticking out slightly, to just barely lick the chicken. Finding the taste pleasing, she made a happy purr and ate it up.

Victoria whispered, “Good kitten,” as she prepped another piece of chicken for Jemima, who plucked it from her hand with her teeth.

Jemima gently licked Victoria’s hand clean, slow even strokes of the tongue.

“Let’s finish eating, Jemima, and then it can be playtime.”

Jemima purred.


	17. Day Sixteen: Body Swap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October 16th  
> Prompt: Body Swap  
> Pairing: Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Specific content warnings for this chapter: Body Swap, a bit of self(?)-groping
> 
> I do not address whether they are siblings (a common fan theory) in this comic shorty. Interpret it however you like.

“Holy shit,” Mungojerrie whispered, awed. He looked down at his body-- well, it wasn’t his body, but right _now_ it was his body.

This body had… _curves_. Lighter fur than his own. He gazed at himself in the reflection of the oven door and yup, he was definitely in Rumpleteazer’s body.

Maybe he _was_ Rumpleteazer?

Jerrie wasn’t built for existential questions like this.

(Somehow, distantly, and he couldn’t explain why, but he felt like Mistoffelees was probably to blame for this.)

His feet were so teeny now. That was weird. He felt jumpy, fidgety, like he didn’t know where to put his hands. Maybe on his hips? They were conveniently placed for that. He looked in the reflection again. Yeah, that looked right. He experimentally cocked a hip, bent a little at the waist. Damn, he looked good.

Jerrie knew Teazer’s body was super cute, but it was just… different to experience it this way. He felt lighter, but also a bit unbalanced in the foreign form.

Unable to help himself, he tentatively placed his hands on his (her?) chest. Oh dang, that was an overload of sensation. He squeezed a little harder, and a high-pitched moan escaped from his lips.

“MUNGOJERRIE, YOU KEEP YOUR HANDS TO YOURSELF,” he heard his own voice yelling at him from across the junkyard.

“I wasn’t doing nothing!”, he yelled immediately, in Teazer’s usual shrill timbre, as he saw his own body rushing by him. “Wait, where are you going?”

Teazer cackled. “To try peeing standing up!”


	18. Day Seventeen: Formal Wear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October 17th  
> Prompt: Formal Wear  
> Pairing: Munkustrap and Mistoffelees

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Specific content warnings for this chapter: Masturbation, pining

The first thing Mistoffelees became aware of was a terrible headache.

He blinked the sleep from his eyes and groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose in a useless attempt to fight the throbbing pulse that was lodged in his skull. Mistoffelees pushed his palms against his closed eyelids, probably too hard, and took a few deep breaths to steady himself.

When he opened his eyes, he suddenly realized he didn’t know where he was.

He was on a bed that wasn’t his own, simple headboard, clean white sheets. Curtains drawn. An ugly black handset on the nightstand was his first definitive sign that ah, he was in a hotel room. The Continental, he read off the small stationery pad next to the phone. Okay, that made sense, he thought as he began to put the clues together-- last night’s charity gala had been at the Continental downtown. He’d probably gotten too tired to take the tube home, so he nabbed a room?

Placing a hand against the pounding pressure in his temple, he thought it was perhaps too charitable to say he’d been too _tired_. He’d definitely gotten sloshed. Misto took a moment to pray to whomever might be listening that he hadn’t embarrassed himself. Or the Foundation.

Misto pulled back the sheets and discovered that he was in his undershirt and boxer-briefs. He didn’t remember getting undressed, but then, he didn’t remember going to the hotel room. “Fair enough,” he muttered to himself as he slowly slid out of the bed. He immediately shivered at the chilly hotel room, air conditioning too powerful for the size of the space, and cocooned himself with the thick white duvet over his shoulders like a cape. 

He visited the bathroom and was distantly proud of himself for not throwing up.

There was a small desk across from the bed, with another notepad and a bottle of water. Misto shuffled over to it and found a handwritten note, and two round white tablets sitting neatly on the paper.

“Good morning, hope you got some sleep. If you have a hangover, here are a couple of painkillers.”   
(A helpful but wholly unnecessary arrow drawn to point at the pills)   
“I had a nice time last night, I hope you did too-- I’ll be back in a few hours after I run some errands. Rest up! - Munk”

Oh god.

The blood drained from Mistoffelees’ face as he fruitlessly tried to recall to what kind of “nice time” Munkustrap was referring. Just the usual Gala frippery? He hadn’t… admitted anything, right? He tossed the pills into his mouth and drank too much water too quickly, coughing. 

Maybe if he drowned, he wouldn’t have to address what happened last night.

Dragging his duvet-cocoon behind him, he went to the closet and found his tuxedo hanging up neatly, next to another-- Munk’s, of course. Two sets of black dress shoes sat lined up against the wall.

Misto’s heart stuttered at the sight. It was such a small thing, such an absolutely-nothing thing, but it brought to mind images that he tried not to fantasize about, things like _living together_ and _sharing a closet_ and _taking care of each other_ and --

\-- and touching, and kissing, and suddenly Misto wasn’t thinking about his headache anymore.

He reached out with a hesitant hand, pulling Munk’s jacket from the hanger. It slipped free easily and he clutched it in his arms, aware that he was wrinkling it but unable to resist. The faint hint of Munk’s cologne still clung to it and Misto immediately brought it to his face, inhaling, seeking more.

He remembered how gorgeous Munkustrap looked at the gala, how easily he moved through the crowd, smile bright. Mistoffelees had wanted very badly to dance with him.

Just to be near him.

Before he really had time to process, he was back on the bed, tuxedo jacket in his arms, duvet abandoned on the floor. Misto lay on his side, with one hand pushing the garment to his nose, breathing in the scent. His other hand slipped between his legs, palming his cock over his briefs, hips jerking at the stimulation. The soft fabric of his underwear began to dampen.

If he kept his eyes closed, if he kept smelling the jacket, he could pretend-- pretend it was Munk’s strong hand on his body, pretend Munk was whispering sweet dirty things in his ear. His fingers slipped underneath the waistband and wrapped around his member, already growing erect, already leaking precum. Misto spread the liquid around the head with the palm of his hand, moaning into the fabric of Munk’s coat. He began to stroke in earnest, firm strokes like he imagined Munk would use, intended to make him feel so good, to make him feel cherished.

The sound of an electronic lock unlatching immediately stilled his hand. “Mistoffelees?”, Munk’s voice came from the doorway as he entered. “How are you feel--”

Oh shit.


	19. Day Eighteen: Anal Sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October 18th  
> Prompt: Anal Sex  
> Pairing: Munkustrap and Mistoffelees

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Specific content warnings for this chapter: Explicit sex
> 
> This is a continuation of the prompt from Day 17, Formal Wear.

“Seems like you’re feeling okay, then.” A small amount of mirth was evident in Munk’s voice.

“Nnnnnn,” Mistoffelees tried to fold himself into a ball and disappear. “I’ll have you know I am miserable.”

“From all the Manhattans? Or from getting caught with your hand down your pants?”

“Munnnnk…”

Taking pity on him, Munkustrap sat down on the bed next to Misto and placed a hand against his forehead. “You feel a little warm, do you think you have a fever?”

“If that’s another joke about me jacking off, you can leave” Misto pouted.

Munk laughed a bit at that. “No, just worried about you. You overdid it.”

Misto sat up, knees to his chest, still covering himself with Munk’s tuxedo jacket. “Did I… I mean… did I…”

“Did you behave poorly? Not at all. It was a very successful fundraiser and you were a _very_ charming part of it.”

Misto heaved a sigh of relief.

“Did you confess your undying love to me? Yes. Many times.”

Misto stopped breathing entirely.

“In front of Jenny and Tugger, too, so you know everybody knows by now.”

Mistoffelees wondered if perhaps he could just live in this hotel room forever, and never ever ever go outside and face their friends again.

Munkustrap, hands gentle as always, tilted Mistoffelees’ chin up to meet his eyes. His expression was kind, understanding, almost pitying, and it made Misto ache. “Hey. This is a very easy thing to blame on alcohol, Misto. We can leave it at that, and go about things just as they have been.” 

Mistoffelees felt overfull, like a shaken champagne bottle waiting for the pressure to release in order to explode.

“I… I don’t want things the same as they’ve been,” Misto said with determination, and leaned forward to kiss Munk.

Munkustrap responded by wrapping his arms around Misto’s waist, pulling him closer, tossing the tuxedo jacket to the floor. His lips were soft and his breath smelled of coffee. 

It was perfect.

“Are you sure about this?”, Munk asked as their lips separated, tracing a line of kisses along Misto’s jawline and down his neck. He pulled Misto’s shirt off over his head and continued trailing kisses downwards.

Very distracting. Seemed like cheating, Misto thought.

“Shut up and fuck me, Munk,” Misto said as he pushed Munkustrap backwards on the bed, straddling his legs. Mistoffelees resumed their kiss, deeper this time, tongues entwining. His penis, gone soft with embarrassment, showed renewed interest. Experimentally, Misto rolled his hips against Munkustrap, and was gratified to feel Munk begin to firm against him.

“Do you have anything?”, Munk asked, a little breathless.

Mistoffelees had to focus through the twin fogs of hangover and arousal. “Yeah, in my wallet, where is it?”

“In the safe,” Munk responded. Misto stared at him flatly, his disbelief plain. “What, don’t be like that, it’s best practice in a hotel.”

“You are such a nerd, I don’t know how I ever fell in love with you,” Misto smirked as he rolled off Munk. Munk left the bed to crouch at the small lockbox, typed in some numbers to open it, and tossed Misto’s wallet at him. Misto’s nerves made him fumble the catch a bit, but neither man commented on it.

Mistoffelees grabbed a condom and a lube packet, placed both on the nightstand, and rolled onto his stomach. He made eye contact with Munk, who was stripping off his sweatshirt.

Face down on the bed, Misto shimmied his ass enticingly-- as though Munk needed any encouragement.

Munk prepared him as carefully as he could manage, with Misto moaning and demanding more, oh, more, oh, right there-- pushing his bare ass against any part of Munk he could reach, his hand, his thighs, his frustratingly still-covered erection.

“I’m ready, please,” Misto was getting dangerously close to crying, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, as Munk rubbed against his prostate with careful fingers.

“Okay, okay,” Munk acquiesced, rolling a condom on his own aching erection, biting his bottom lip as a distraction as he lubed himself up. He pulled Misto up on all fours, planted a kiss on the smooth curve of Misto’s ass before lining himself up and pushing in.

Misto groaned at the pressure, at the fullness, as Munk slowly (carefully, he knew he’d be careful) buried himself in Misto’s heat, deep, to the hilt. He fisted the bedsheets in shaking hands, trying to ground himself in the face of overwhelming sensation. Munk made shallow thrusts, just getting them used to each other, finding the spots that would make pleasure spark in the back of Misto’s eyes. 

When he hit the prostate just right, Misto let out a wail.

“Is that good, Mistoffelees,” Munk asked, knowing the answer was yes but wanting to hear him say it anyway.

“Aannhhh, it’s good, it’s so good, Munk, don’t stop,” Misto sobbed, pushing back against Munk’s dick, demanding more.

Munk leaned over him as he moved, smoothly, in and out, hands on his hips for leverage. “Tell me what you like, Misto.”

“Harder, harder, please,” Misto managed before deteriorating into unintelligible whimpers as Munk obliged, thrusting fast and deep, wrapping his arms around Misto’s waist to hold him in place.

Munkustrap wrapped a hand around Misto’s leaking cock and it was just like he imagined it would be, just the right pressure, slick with sweat and lube, sweet and firm and before he could warn Munk, he was coming and coming and coming, all over Munk’s hand and the sheets. 

His legs gave out but Munk held him up, fucking him through the orgasm. Munk’s hips staggered and lost the rhythm and then he was coming too, not with a moan but a gasp, like he couldn’t believe it, like he was lost.

Mistoffelees fell to the bed, exhausted, hangover mercifully dissipated and replaced with a full-body bliss. Munk pulled him in for a kiss, laying down next to him and he snuggled in gratefully.

“I think we’ve got some things to discuss, Mistoffelees,” Munkustrap said.

“Agreed. But first-- Munk, how long do we have this hotel room?”

Munk smirked.


	20. Day Nineteen: Nipple Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October 19th  
> Prompt: Nipple Play  
> Pairing: Rumpleteazer and Victoria

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Specific content warning for this chapter: Fantasizing about that hot girl you know

It was chilly in the pub.

Rumpleteazer ran hot, so she didn’t really notice, but she _did_ notice the other girls draping their jackets over their shoulders, or doing little half-jumps from foot to foot to increase bloodflow.

Victoria didn’t wear a coat, which she was clearly beginning to regret. She’d untied the chiffon scarf from her neck and was wrapping it over her arms like a makeshift shawl. She held it closed with one hand, the other hand gripping her pint glass.

The scarf was doing absolutely nothing to disguise Victoria’s discomfort, too sheer to offer her much warmth and certainly not able to hide her peaked nipples under that thin white blouse.

Teazer didn’t mean to be staring, of course. But it was an honest distraction. Perfect little pebbles standing out on the otherwise immaculate, unwrinkled fabric. Delectable round protrusions that felt like they were hypnotizing her.

Did Victoria have sensitive nipples?

Did she like it when they were stroked, when they were licked?

If Teazer massaged her breasts, would she moan? Did Victoria like it if you were a little rough with them, pinching, flicking the nipple, closing your teeth around it--

Teazer shook herself back to reality, and walked over to Victoria. Without asking permission, she slid off her leather jacket and placed it on Victoria’s trembling shoulders. Victoria smiled at her, looking at her with those big doe eyes of hers, and Teazer shivered.


	21. Day Twenty: Human Furniture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October 20th  
> Prompt: Human Furniture  
> Pairing: Bombalurina and Pouncival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Specific content warnings for this chapter: BDSM

“Where did that form 928 go-- do you see it down there?”, Bombalurina asked, voice tinged with frustration.

Pouncival couldn’t really see much from his vantage point at the moment, nude, head down, on all fours, with Bombalurina seated primly on his back. There were some papers scattered about, but nothing that seemed to be the missing one. “No, Mistress.”

Bombalurina sighed. She held up a legal pad in front of her, chewing on her bottom lip in concentration, as her other hand massaged and squeezed Pouncival’s round ass as a stress reliever.

“Mistress, if I may ask, why do you have taxable fuel bonds?”

“You may _not_ ask, but since you are being so good, I’ll give you some free advice. It’s important to keep a diverse financial portfolio.”

Pouncival made a thoughtful hum, and replied “Thank you, Mistress.”

“Someday you’ll be old and doing taxes too, and you’ll benefit from my tutelage.”

“Mistress, I am always grateful-- wait, Mistress, could the form still be on the printer?”, Pouncival asked.

“No, I-- well, maybe,” she paused, checking the printer tray. “Good idea, Chair,” she nodded in approval, giving his ass a firm spanking as a reward.

“Thank you, Mistress,” Pouncival beamed.


	22. Day Twenty-One: Pegging

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October 21st  
> Prompt: Pegging  
> Pairing: Plato and Victoria

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Specific content warnings for this chapter: Caging, anal play, BDSM
> 
> A companion piece to Day 2-- What can I say, I just love my himbo Plato in that cage.

Plato felt nervous. Just a little. His forearms were on the floor, head bowed, ears twitching in anticipation. He pushed his hips up as high as the cage would allow-- the bars were cold against his flushed skin as he pressed his buttocks against them.

“Have you prepared yourself properly, Plato?”, Victoria asked as she fastened the last buckle on her harness.

“Yes, mistress,” Plato responded, perhaps a little breathlessly. He knew _he_ would feel amazing, but he wanted it to be good for his beloved as well. He hoped that he had stretched himself enough for her to really claim him the way she wanted.

He wanted to impress her.

Victoria snugged up the straps keeping her fake cock in place, admiring the rivets on the leather, the little ruffles running along the border. “I’ll be the judge of that,” she said sweetly, and pulled his tail out of her way. She slid two fingers into his asshole without preamble.

A shiver of arousal ran down Plato’s spine, and he let out a moan.

She hummed her approval. “Oh, darling, you are so wet and loose. I love it. Absolutely dripping”

“Thank you, mistress,” Plato groaned, stifling the sounds of his pleasure against his forearm.

Victoria scissored her fingers before adding a third. “Delightful. Your asshole is just begging for me, isn’t it?”

“Y-y-yes, mistress.”

Plato struggled to keep his legs tense, pushing against the bars as hard as he could manage, as Victoria pressed the head of her silicone dick against his entrance. “Does that feel good, Plato?”, she asked, voice sincere, not part of their scene, but a genuine check on him.

“Yes, please, Victoria, please, fuck me,” Plato whined.

She plunged in, hard. “It’s ‘Mistress’, Plato. Going to have to punish you for that little slip up.” She angled her hips up, thrusting in smooth motions that pushed her thighs up against the cage bars.

“Oh no, please don’t punish me, I’ll be good,” Plato moaned as the dildo rubbed against his prostate.

He could hardly wait for his punishment later.


	23. Day Twenty-Two: Recording

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October 22nd  
> Prompt: Recording  
> Pairing: Rum Tum Tugger and Jennyanydots (2019)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Specific content warnings for this chapter: Making a terrible sex tape
> 
> Apologies to the Bridesmaids credits scene that was my inspo.

[static]

“Oh, hello, hello there, I am just a little cat minding her own business, lying on my bed in sexy lingerie like I always do, I wonder when that pizza delivery boy will arrive and… deliver pizza.”

“Jenny, darling, I don’t think I’d call that ‘acting natural’, wouldcha?”

Jennyanydots, who had been making artless uninterrupted eye contact with the camera, whirled around towards the voice. “Shut up, Tugger, and get in here!”

Tugger cleared his throat and entered the frame, balancing a stack of cardboard boxes in his arms. “Hello, customer lady, I’m here to deliver your pizzas. I hope you’re hungry.”

Jenny returned to fixing her gaze on the camera. “I am always hungry, so bring that big pizza over here.”

Tugger kneeled on the bed next to her, joining Jenny in staring down the lens. "Here's your hot hot pizza."

“Oh no,” Jenny lamented, monotone, “I don’t have any money to tip you with, how will we solve this problem.”

“I can think of something,” Tugger said, leaning in for a kiss. Jenny made an exaggerated pouting face as their lips met.

[static]

Jenny was sliding a slice of pizza up and down Tugger's chest as he reclined in what he probably thought was a very seductive manner.

[static]

“Gee, customer lady, you sure do like sausage, are you sure you can handle this much.”

"Now who's bad at _'acting natural'_ , huh? Wanker!"


	24. Day Twenty-Three: Piercings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October 23rd  
> Prompt: Piercings  
> Pairing: Plato and Victoria

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Specific content warnings for this chapter: Bondage, BDSM, piercing
> 
> Had a request to follow up with Plato's punishment so... please enjoy :)

Victoria was holding the large needle in a black gloved hand, which was more unsettling than he’d anticipated. Plato forced a thin smile.

“Don’t be nervous, Plato,” she soothed, “the pain will be quick.”

Plato nodded firmly. He could do this. He could be good for her.

He was tied to an X cross in their playroom, with an added strap around his waist to keep him from flinching when she pierced him. He thought he could behave, that he could stay still-- but it didn’t hurt to be sure.

“We’re only piercing one nipple today, my pet. If you’re a very good boy, maybe I’ll give you a matching pair. With little pearls on them, so everyone knows who owns you.”

“Yes, mistress,” Plato whispered, licking his dry lips.

Victoria gave his left nipple a pinch, before palming the meat of his pectoral, massaging. “I’m being far too nice to you, Plato. Don’t I spoil you?”

“Yes, you sp--” is all Plato managed to get out before Victoria had pushed the needle through his nipple, a horizontal slash.

The pain was exquisite.


	25. Day Twenty-Four: Massage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October 24th  
> Prompt: Massage  
> Pairing: Quaxo and Electra

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Specific content warnings for this chapter: College AU

“You look tense.”

The study area was starting to empty as the hour got later. Quaxo looked up from his daunting pile of textbooks and saw Electra standing next to the desk. She slid a paper coffee cup towards him, smiling. “Thought you could use a little pick-me-up,” she said.

“Oh you angel,” Quaxo sighed, grabbing the cup and sipping-- one cream, two sugars, she knew him well.

Electra sat down at the desk next to him, holding a cup of her own. “Finals are always brutal. What do you have left?” She scanned the spines of the mountain of books. “I’m going to go out on a limb here and say Sociology is next.”

Quaxo chuckled. “Great deduction.” He stretched his neck, leaning his head from left to right, and winced as a nerve bit back at him.

“You’re not planning on pulling an all-nighter, are you?”, Electra tutted, setting her coffee down and moving to stand behind his chair.

Quaxo shrugged, and winced again as that nerve stung. “It’s part of the college experience, right?”

Electra made a disapproving sound and placed her hands on his shoulders, kneading at the muscles. “My god, you _are_ tense,” she said, whistling lowly.

Quaxo groaned a little as her thumbs dug into a tender area at the base of his neck. “I’m going to fail everything and then walk into the ocean, Electra.”

She chuckled, softly, and leaned in for better leverage as she worked, massaging away the tightness as best she could. “Oh please, you know this stuff. You are going to be fine.”

Quaxo wished he could have her confidence.

Electra tucked her face into his neck, and he could feel her breath, warm against him. “Maybe you need a distraction? You can get back to all this important studying,” she said as her hands slid from his shoulders to his chest, and began to drift downward, “after we take a little break together.”

It didn’t take long for Quaxo to grab his jacket.


	26. Day Twenty-Five: Biting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October 25th  
> Prompt: Biting  
> Pairing: Macavity and Mungojerrie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Specific content warnings for this chapter: Biting, ass play
> 
> (Please see Day 6 for the first bit of this nightmare)

“What the fuck was that.”

“I, uh…”

“Jerrie. I’m serious here. What the fuck did you just do.”

“Well, y’know, your ass just looked so tasty, Boss, that I, uh--”

“That you thought you’d take a bite.”

“Yeah, kinda.”

A beat.

“It wasn’t like I was tryna hurt you or nothing, Boss.”

“And yet, here I am, with your teeth marks on my ass cheek.”

“You give me real mixed signals, Macavity! ‘Eat my ass, Jerrie’, ‘no, Jerrie, don’t eat my ass--’”

“God you are just so, so dumb.”

A beat.

“Do it again.”


	27. Day Twenty-Six: Uniforms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October 26th  
> Prompt: Uniforms  
> Pairing: Munkustrap and Mistoffelees

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Specific content warnings for this chapter: Alley smooching

Munkustrap’s head was buried in Mistoffelees’ neck, pressing him against the brick wall. He pushed their hips together aggressively, instant delicious friction, and Misto shivered.

The alley was not the most elegant place to make out like randy teenagers, but Munk had been uncharacteristically insistent, and Misto didn’t want to get in trouble for, hmm, _monopolizing_ the bathroom at work.

“Oh god you taste good,” Munk breathed into the collar of Misto’s shirt, one hand buried in Misto’s dark curls, the other running down his back to push their bodies together. “You look so hot in your uniform, I can’t resist you.”

Misto moaned as Munk licked a hot stripe from his ear to his collarbone. “M-munk,” Misto panted, “it’s a polo shirt.”

“Mmhmm,” Munk confirmed.

“With the coffee shop logo on it.”

“ _Yeah_.”

Misto blinked a few times, utterly not understanding, but Munk’s hand on his ass gave him a good incentive to just roll with it.


	28. Day Twenty-Seven: Groping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October 27th  
> Prompt: Groping  
> Pairing: Rum Tum Tugger and Bombalurina

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Specific content warnings for this chapter: Consensual and pre-negotiated train groping

Bombalurina gripped the handhold a little tighter as the train traversed a sharp curve. She was waiting, anticipation swirling in her stomach, but she played it cool. Part of the fantasy was not knowing when it would happen.

It had been a hot day, and the sun going down didn’t do much to cool things off. The train car felt stuffy, claustrophobic, crowded with sweaty bodies.

The train stopped at a station, brakes squealing. A few passengers exited, but more entered and Bomba shifted to accommodate. It was getting tight.

She felt someone brush against her arm.

Bomba’s eyes darted, but not seeing anyone looking at her, she tried to relax.

The doors closed, and the train continued, but now Bomba was on edge. _Was he here?_

That same feathery touch, running down her arm, catching in the crook of her elbow-- it sent a shiver down her spine. She closed her eyes, cleared her throat in a fruitless attempt to let off some steam.

A hand, an unknown hand began to massage, thumb digging little circles just above her hipbone. Bomba forced her breathing to be even, to focus on the sensation.

She looked around her, _had anyone noticed_ , but the passengers seemed unaware.

She leaned back into the stranger, just a bit, subtle enough that it could be convincingly disguised as just the rocking of the train upsetting her balance.

“Bombalurina, you’re not supposed to make this easy on me,” Tugger whispered into the curve of her ear.

She smiled over her shoulder at him, gave him a salacious wink, then returned to placidly facing forward. “Then get to work.”

Tugger’s hand slid lower, to cup her ass, giving it a squeeze. Bomba struggled to keep her expression neutral. His other hand brushed against her bare thigh, just under the hem of her short skirt, ruching up the fabric.

She swallowed her moan as his fingers stroked at the lacy border of her panties, his breath hot against her neck.

“More,” she murmured, pushing back into his touch.


	29. Day Twenty-Eight: Scratching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October 28th  
> Prompt: Scratching  
> Pairing: Rum Tum Tugger and Bombalurina

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Specific content warnings for this chapter: Train/public sex
> 
> Continues from Day 27, "Groping".

“Damn, you are demanding,” Tugger breathed into Bomba’s ear, frank as always.

Bomba ground her hips back against his strong frame, but was _very aware_ that the next train stop was coming up and they’d need to be discrete if this little encounter was to continue.

Tugger played with the elastic of her panties, somewhat hidden by the drape of her skirt-- but any observant passenger would catch on quick. He snuck a hand inside the soft fabric, fingers nudging at her slit. 

“Better,” she sighed against him.

She could feel him hardening against her and her insides fluttered. This was going to be so good.

But the tinny voice over the speakers warned that the next stop was imminent. 

“Wait,”, Bombalurina whispered. She pushed away from him, as much as she didn’t want to, trying to pause until the station passed-- but he followed, keeping her close, hands stroking her body with intent.

Time for decisive action, then.

Bomba grabbed Tugger round the waist, untucking his shirt, and dug her fingernails into the sensitive flesh there. His expression was pinched as he bit back a yell.

“I _said_ , wait,” she purred in his reddening face, smile wide, and she swung her hips a little as she moved away, eyelashes fluttering as she winked at him over her shoulder. “The station after this one is a nice long ways off, so we’ll have all the time we need.”


	30. Day Twenty-Nine: Glory Hole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October 29th  
> Prompt: Glory Hole  
> Pairing: Munkustrap and Mungojerrie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Specific content warnings for this chapter: Jerrie is my favorite dumbass.

“Munku, Munku, come look at this,” Mungojerrie said, grabbing Munkustrap by the hand and dragging him along.

Munkustrap smiled and let himself be led away from the shop, towards the restroom. “I thought we were looking at clothing?”

“Oh, this is worth taking a break for.”

The men’s room had a couple urinals and three stalls, seemed pretty clean for a mall bathroom-- Munk tilted his head in confusion. “What are we--”, he began as Jerrie shoved him into a stall.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing here,” Munkustrap said, trying to process, but locked the door by habit anyway. He could hear Jerrie slide into the stall adjacent to him, and that’s when he saw it.

Jerrie was peeking through a very intentionally placed hole between the stalls, and he was giggling.

 _Giggling_.

“Oh my god, Jerrie,” Munkustrap sighed, then laughed a little too, despite himself.

Jerrie stuck a finger through the hole, and wiggled it around. “Hello, Munku,” he said in a cartoonish voice, “I’m the worm who lives in the men’s room!”

Munk stopped laughing.

“Jerrie.”

“Yeah, Munku?”

“Jerrie… do you know what this hole is for?”


	31. Day Thirty: Aftercare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October 30th  
> Prompt: Aftercare  
> Pairing: Bombalurina and Demeter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Specific content warnings for this chapter: Bondage

Bombalurina slowly unwound the rope from Demeter’s wrists, plucking the bell from her hands and setting it on the bedside table.

For another time.

She gently cupped Demeter’s face, attempting to make meaningful eye contact, but Demeter was still blissed-out-- her pupils were blown, eyelids hooded, a warm relaxed expression flooding her. 

Bomba laughed lightly, pleased that she’d made Demeter feel so good.

She fetched a fluffy robe from the closet and wrapped Demeter up in it, helped her to her feet, and maneuvered them both into bed.

Demeter made a soft, contented noise, and Bombalurina hugged her closer.

"Thank you," Demeter whispered, face buried in Bomba's neck.

"My pleasure."


	32. Day Thirty-One: Free Space

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October 31st  
> Prompt: Free Space  
> Pairing: None

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Specific content warnings for this chapter: Vaguely meta trash
> 
> I wrote myself a Shawarma Ending to this amazing month, thanks to everyone for your kudos and comments and for giving these kinky Cats fics a chance. Love to you all, and extra love to snowhite_dahlia, my muse and my darling who gave me everything I needed to power through thirty-one days of this!

“What size would you like?”, Jemima asked, perky as usual, her apron tidy, her hair in a cute bun.

Mistoffelees stared at her too hard, and blinked slowly, trying to dislodge some of the fog in his brain. “What’s the biggest one.”

Jemima smiled. “It’s the ‘massimo’, Misto. Why don’t I just make you something I know you’ll like.” She looked him up and down, seeing the bags under his eyes and the wrinkled fit of his clothes. “I’ll bring it over to the table with everybody else, so go have a seat.”

Misto tried to thank her but it just came out as “fffanks” and he bowed his head a little.

“Oh, and please tell everyone that if anybody dares puke, I’m throwing you all out,” she said sweetly.

“Mmm,” Misto grumbled as he carefully maneuvered to the big table with the rest of the Jellicles.

Tugger had his face down on the table. He wasn’t moving, at all, but sometimes he’d let out a reedy groan, so they knew he was alive.

Demeter and Bombalurina were leaning on each other, Demeter’s eyes closed, Bomba’s hands gripping a large mug of steaming coffee as though it was the only thing keeping her upright. Maybe it was.

Munkustrap tried to pull out a chair for Misto, ever polite, but found he didn’t have the coordination and just ended up awkwardly kicking at it until it was dislodged enough for Misto to sit. Misto fell into it, squeezing the bridge of his nose and letting out a moan.

Electra poked him in the ribcage for daring to make noise.

“Don’t poke him, he might vomit, and then we have to leave,” Victoria said, voice muffled, head buried in Plato’s neck. Plato’s face had a very particular pinched look.

True to her word, Jemima brought Misto the biggest coffee she could put together, and set it delicately on the table. Rumpleteazer, who had been staring blankly into the middle distance, thanked her quietly as she stole the first sip from Misto.

Jemima laughed softly, brushing the hair off of Tugger’s sleeping face. “You guys should definitely take it easier next month, yeah?”


End file.
